The Bodyguard
by TheWordWarrior
Summary: The life of a bodyguard which no one knew about. He suffered more than most but his story was lost in the depth of nothingness. His life was short and the story even shorter. Here is his memoir. Canon compliant. One shot. COMPLETE.


A/N: My attempt at one-shot. Hope everyone likes it. Had to dumb down my writing to match the POV of Crabbe

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The Bodyguard

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A nine year old kid looked out from the broken window of his rundown house. He was too big for his age, his appetite weighing down on his poor family. He was staring at nothing; his thoughts were too jumbled to make sense from.

He wanted answers but couldn't phrase a proper question. Even the effort to think gave him a headache. Everyone was right about him. He was stupid.

***B***

"You are worthless; a wasted space." Their next door neighbour insulted him. He had heard that a lot. He was usually insulted in front of his parents but they never made an attempt to stop it. They were guilty of it themselves.

He knew it had to be true. Everyone couldn't possibly be wrong about him. He silently agreed with his neighbour.

***B***

His ashamed father held his progress report in his hands which had come from a magical preschool that he attended. The report was a proof of his non-performance. He had failed again. At least he lived up to his father's expectation; the expectation to fail. He was a disappointment, even to himself.

***B***

His mother just ignored him. She rarely talked to him. The times she did, it was only to scold him. He felt like a stranger in his own house. He had spotted her a few times staring at the skies as if cursing the Gods for giving them such an incompetent offspring. He felt sorry for her. Sorry for himself.

***B***

They were poor. Being a death eater was not an attractive employment option. But his father had no other choice. The few times he had got his son to help him in other kinds of work, he wished he hadn't asked. His son was so clumsy and so inept that he was unable to carry out even the most menial tasks. He was useless; a burden.

***B***

His classmates in his school and the children in his neighbourhood were unbearable. They teased him relentlessly and sometimes even beat him up. He was strong but didn't even know how to use his strength. He rarely understood the things the other children told him but he knew they were offensive. They laughed at him, made fun of him and when they lost their interest in him, they left him alone. Even the loneliness was unforgiving.

***B***

He wished he was never born. What good was it to live like this? To live without purpose, to be a burden. He was only ten, but the will to live had died a long time ago. As he approached his breaking point something happened that changed his life for the better. He found a purpose, a friend and… happiness. A feeling he had never felt.

***B***

He was eleven. His father had told him that he had somehow managed to get him admitted to Hogwarts. The school for witches and wizards, his new school. Could he start afresh?

A month before the school year began; his dad took him to visit one of his _friends. _His father's friend lived in a large castle with a huge gate and lavish gardens. A very rich friend indeed.

The boy looked on with wide eyes and an open mouth. He saw things that he never imagined existed. His father had kept on telling him to be at his best behaviour but he kept forgetting. His memory was very weak. A flobberworm was more intelligent than him, he had been told. He couldn't do nothing but agree.

***B***

A blond boy stood in front of him, looking at him with calculating eyes, a sneer plastered on his face. He wanted to run from him but his father pushed him in the back. He stumbled forward and fell on his face. A gasp escaped his father while he heard a snort somewhere from his left. It was from the blond boy's father. He hastily got up and looked around as if just realizing where he was.

"Are you alright?" The blond boy asked him without emotion. He nodded dumbly at him. The blond walked up to him and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I am Draco, Draco Malfoy."

"Vincent." The fat boy squeaked, eying the hand in disbelief.

"My hand doesn't bite, you know?" The blond boy joked with a friendly smile on his face. Vincent reluctantly brought his hand forward and shook hands. He met Draco's unassuming eyes and tried to smile which ended up looking like a grimace. He had long forgotten how to smile.

Thus began their seven year friendship.

***B***

He followed wherever Draco went. He became one of his personal bodyguards. Draco didn't mind. The time Vincent spent in Hogwarts was memorable. He realized that he couldn't have survived a day without Draco. Draco used to let him copy his homework but they were never caught. His poor copying skills made sure of that. No one tried to tease or hurt him as long as he was at Draco's side. Even though he was the bodyguard, he felt as if he was the one being protected.

***B***

"Absolutely pathetic" Their Head of the House sneered at Draco's bodyguards. "I don't know what the Headmaster was thinking by letting you both come to Hogwarts. You are not fit to belong here. I am amazed you made it to fifth year." The Head of the House turned sharply at Draco. "I don't suppose you have anything to do with it?"

Draco met the gaze with innocent eyes. "What do you mean?" Professor Snape just huffed and looked at the two in disgust.

"You are wasting your time on these two. There are other students who are _worthy _of your friendship." Snape advised Draco with a dismissive look at the other two.

"I am free to choose who I have for company." Draco drawled. "Unless of course, Umbridge has decided to raise another decree to take that freedom away from us."

Draco had chosen him over others. He was truly honoured.

***B***

Vincent admired Draco. He watched his every movement, his flamboyance and his arrogant swagger. He was his role model, his mentor. He saw the respect Draco garnered from his peers.

He even tried to copy him but had no success.

"If you are trying to walk like a troll, you are doing a good job." The mirror teased him. He stopped imitating him after that.

***B***

Draco always tried to talk to them, but the conversation was always one sided, his own responses were unintelligent, just grunts and incomprehensible mumbling.

"Why are you friends with me?" Vincent wondered loudly. He had finally managed to ask the question he had been meaning to ask Draco for a long time.

Draco looked up from his parchment with an amused smile. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I… Blaise and Theodore… They are much better. I don't know why you put up with me." Vincent said with difficulty, eyes examining the floor.

"You wouldn't understand." Draco smiled reassuringly and went back to his work. Vincent nodded his head. He didn't understand many things. All he knew that he had a friend in front of him. That was all he wanted to know anyway.

***B***

Vincent walked alongside Draco, Gregory Goyle on his other side. Vincent looked at the worried expression that Draco's face held. He knew what was required of Draco and also the consequences if Draco failed. He would never let such a thing happen. It was time for him to return the favour, even if it cost him his life.

"I saw them go into the room of requirement." Draco told them. Vincent and Gregory followed him into the room which was filled with mysterious objects. Vincent didn't know what each of them was called but he didn't care. Their goal was to either capture or kill Harry Potter. Vincent promised himself that he would make that happen.

After searching around for a bit they finally found their targets. Vincent decided that now was the time to fulfil his obligation. He quickly sent a couple of killing curses but somehow the Potter brat managed to dodge them along with his friends. They ran away and Vincent gave them the chase. He was so engrossed in his single minded thinking that he didn't even hear Draco's shouts asking him to stop.

He spotted scar-head just around the corner and sent a Fiendfyre curse at him. It was too late for him to realize that such a spell was a suicide in closed spaces. The fire spread quickly and Vincent soon found himself surrounded by it.

There was no way out but he wasn't worried. He had a smile on his face. He knew that Potter could never escape from this inferno. He had finally succeeded at what he had set out for. Draco would be proud.

He screamed in agony as the fire engulfed. It was not because of the pain but the realization that even Draco was caught in the cursed fire. There was no way Draco would survive as well.

He died before the raging flames could claim him. The shock of him murdering his only friend was too much for his humble mind.

***B***

And that was the story of one Vincent Crabbe. Despised by all, bar one. The one he ended up killing. Or so he thought.

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A/N: How was it? If you liked my writing, I would appreciate it if you would read my other story as well


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